NaNoWriMo

Despite my best intentions, I have already failed NaNoWriMo. I view it as a defeat similar to failing P.E. class, only much worse. See, I never even tried...

It's a long story, really. It started about three years ago, when I first enrolled in college. Little did I know that the big entity called University would require all of my time, attention, and energy.

Fast forward to three years later, and, naively, I thought I would MAKE time to participate this year. I mean, it's not that big of a deal...12,000 words a week is cake, right?

That, at least, was my pre-midterms mentality. Now my logical side is snickering. Seriously? Twelve-thousand words a week? You're carrying eighteen hours! You only have three semesters left before graduation. Do you just love pain, or what? Wait one more year!!!

I have, once again, conceded defeat. My logical side is right. Or, if not right, it at least has logic on its side...

One day, NaNoWriMo, our date with destiny will be fulfilled. We will create a brilliantly hilarious first draft full of brilliant literary merit together. One day. Just...not yet.

Courtney

Here's to Muse

As readers of this blog may know, my ever-faithful muse packed up and left me at the beginning of my latest project. Not that it matters. I can write without my muse. Really. Don't look at me like that! I'm not lying.

So, while my Muse is on what I am beginning to suspect is a permanent hiatus to Greece (read, while the semester continues and I must devote my precious writing time to the slave-driver called Renaissance Drama), I've decided to feature the thoughts of a few prominent authors on the subject. Enjoy!

1) A very practical view on muse, if I do say so...

"Health is the first muse, and sleep is the condition to produce it."--Ralph Waldo Emerson.

2) He didn't think his regular muse was good enough. Sounds familiar.

"O! For a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention!"--Shakespeare

3) I think his muse must be related to mine...

"I would especially like to recourt the Muse of poetry, who ran off with the mailman four years ago, and drops me only a scribbled postcard from time to time." --John Updike

3rd Sort of Annual Stupendously Ultimate First Paragrah Contest, anyone?

As you may have inferred from my stupendously long title, I am an entrant in agent Nathan Bransford's 3rd Annual 1st Paragraph contest. And you thought I was going to say I liked big words and run-on titles, didn't you?

Any writers out there, I highly suggest entering the contest. It is a chance to get either a query or a partial critique from an energetic and competent literary agent.

I'm looking forward to seeing the results on this one even if I don't win. I'm just satisfied that my paragraph was posted on the first page of comments...

Yes, cough cough, it is that time of the year again...

If you will kindly note the date of my last post (August 23rd), you may correlate that date to the beginning of the school year. This is no coincidence.

Consider the last two sentences my excuse--or lack thereof--for my serious blog neglect. Thankfully, I have at least got some writing progress to show for it: I have reached the 20% mark on my mystery novel, I have conducted lots of research (I have read several genre books), and, I have written a short story featuring Sherlock Holmes and time travel which is pending publication in my campus literary journal the El Portal.

However, I have nothing whatsoever clever or enlightening to blog about today. Therefore, you should consider this your warning, or notification, that I will be attempting to post once more on a regular basis--be it "mundane" posts on the intricacies of Renaissance Drama, or relevant posts about mystery and writing in general.

Remember, I warned you...

Writing Ease?

School started again and I am once again daydreaming about publication. It happens every semester. I read about so-and-so, who dropped out of college to write such-and-such famous literary masterpiece, and I wonder if--possibly--it would be smart for me to follow in their footsteps.

I mean, I like learning, but midterms aren't exactly my cup of tea. There's the procrastinating, and the studying, and the tests. Did I mention the studying? Did you know that studying is the combination of STUDENT + DYING?

It is not a pretty sight!

On a more serious note...I've reached the 16% mark on my novel. That's right. I've been working on my novel for the entire summer, and I have only written about 11,000 words. Nothing has ever been this hard to write before.

Usually, the first 10,000 or so words come easy. Not so with this WIP. I got the first chapter or two written, and then BAM! Right out of the blue, my muse waved and said it was going on vacation to Greece. "See you soon," it said, "or possibly in about fifty years when you need a cane and have false teeth. It depends on how I like the Mediterranean."

Right now, I'm hoping it got singed in the wildfires. That would teach it...

So, just out of pure curiosity...am I alone with this trial? How long does it usually take y'all to crank out a first draft? The first 10,000 words?

--Courtney

Striving toward literary "perfection".

At one point in his eventful life, everybody's favorite capitalist--Benjamin Franklin--developed a plan to achieve perfection. In fact, he recorded his attempt in his autobiography--delineating the process by which he chose the "virtues" that together embodied perfection, as well as the method by which he hoped to obtain perfection in each of these virtues.

Such virtues as "moderation" and "humility" were used as examples--he planned to dedicate a set amount of time to each, and at the end of the total amount of time, he was quite certain he would be the embodiment of perfection.

Now, I may be going out on a limb here, but I think that Franklin's attempts are not at all dissimilar to our own. In fact, I think they are quite comparative.

As writers, we are attempting to create a "perfect" work of literature--perfect in the sense that somewhere, somehow an agent and or major publishing house will like it enough to back it, etc. etc.

Now, barring slightly erratic behavior and the (possibly delusional) belief that complete behavioral perfection can be attained in a matter of weeks, Franklin does have a point:

As much as we'd like to believe otherwise, writing a successful novel is not subject to chance, or the visitation of muse, or winning the lottery. It just isn't. At least, not completely. A successful novel can be written using a mystical method called hard, continuous work. Rear in chair. Fingers on keyboard. Nose in craft and writing books. Day in and day out.

Now, it may not happen in a matter of weeks, but like Franklin said, working steadfastly everyday will get you there eventually. In fact, it probably won't even take a lifetime. Maybe a year, maybe two. In some cases, ten--but those generally involve thick historical novels.

That said, the occasional fishing trip to Alaska, or all expense paid vacation to Greece couldn't hurt either. Just saying.

The Value of Real Life in Writing.

I once read a bumper sticker that stated

REAL MUSICIANS HAVE DAY JOBS.

As a musician and member of a bluegrass band, I can appreciate that. I mean, it could be ideal to sell all I own and simply tour the country full time. But, without having to juggle my work schedule with the band's tour schedule, without having to work enough to pay the house payment, would the joy of being able to go out and perform, the joy of succeeding at life's juggling act, even exist?

Still, if I changed one simple word in the sentence--REAL WRITERS HAVE DAY JOBS--I get the feeling I wouldn't be as willing to accept it.

In fact, I'm fairly sure I'd struggle with it.

See, I've got this image in my head of writing as a solitary, enjoyable profession. A nice log cabin--equipped with wifi and an espresso maker--in some exotic place. Maybe Alaska--I've always wanted to visit Alaska...but I digress. In this vision, I would only have to interact with the people I allowed into my life. I would be able to work as much as I wanted on my heart-breakingly brilliant work of literary genius. I would...be living a dream.

That's just it, isn't it? That's the catch in that bumper-sticker sized bit of wisdom. In living a dream, can we be REAL musicians? REAL writers?

I've got a sneaking feeling that being forced to deal with angry customers at work, being forced to visit with perfume laden great aunts and family members who take a disturbing delight in matchmaking for the younger generations in our family, and being required to do things I would rather not forces me to be real. It forces me to react instead of dream. It forces me to see life realistically--which in turn allows me to write realistically.

It might also provide fodder for my next novel, but that is almost beside the point.